A cold night in the sandsea
by The-Seeress-Yeul
Summary: It's another cold night on the sandsea, but the memories of Penelo's parents and her brothers come back to her. Balthier offers her some warmth of his to keep her mind off her painful memories. Balthier/Penelo fluff. (NOT A LEMON/LIME. PURE FLUFF. 100% FLUFF)


_Final Fantasy XII: A cold night. Written by The-Seeress-Yeul/SeeressYeul. __**Please do not take my literature**__!_

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It was a cold night in the Ogir-Yensa sandsea. The moon was high in the sky accompanied by the brightest of stars. Penelo and her childhood friend, Vaan were collecting firewood together while the others set up camp. Penelo shivered from the cold. How she hated it so. It reminded her too much of that time she and the other orphans had spent as they watched their parents fall ill to the plague and could nothing to help. Vaan, upon seeing her shake from the cold asked her if she was all right, knowing just how much she hated being cold.

"I'm fine, Vaan. Really." She replied, clutching the firewood close to her chest and hurried back to the camp where she lay her wood in a pile.

Vaan shrugged and followed her, complaining along the way. "Why can't we just light something on fire? It would be much easier and faster then having to gather all of this."

Ashe sighed and went to find a source of food with Fran while Basch said, "It is much easier to burn wood than it is to burn a random object."

Vaan set the wood on Penelo's and watched and listened as Basch told him how to start one, having had to make one many times on his way from Landis to Dalmasca.

Penelo, on the other hand sat by herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms attempting to coax more blood into her veins. She watched as Vaan was able to coax a spark from the materials Basch had brought with him.

"Sitting by yourself?" Balthier asked, hands on his hips.

She turned to see him standing off to the stand looking at her in way with worry.

"I'm just waiting for Vaan." She replied, continuing to rub her arms.

He raised an eyebrow at her and sat down next to her.

"Perhaps, then I shall sit with you until he is done? Who is to say he won't take all night?" Balthier smirked.

Penelo smiled and replied, "It is Vaan, so I wouldn't be surprised."

At this time, her lips began to tremble and she curled her fingers and toes trying to keep them away from the cold. Balthier noticed this and simply said, "Are you cold, my dear? A lovely flower such as you should not be shivering from this cold."

He took off his vest, setting it to the side and then proceeded in taking off his shirt. Penelo blushed and stammered. "Wh-why? You don't need to do this. I am fine, really!"

Balthier brushed off her comment and offered his shirt to her.

"I can't." She said.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Take it my dear. You need it more than I do at the moment."

She did so, hesitantly and once she put it on, she was startled by the warmth that accompanied it and the fragrance that was Balthier's. She turned red in the cheeks and mumbled a thank you.

"May I ask as to why, one such as you does not like the cold?"

Penelo shifted her eyes to the fire that Vaan had successfully started with Basch's close assistance.

She sighed and replied, "When the plague hit Rabanastre, Vaan and I and the other orphans spent many nights watching our family members suffer in the cold and we could do nothing for them. My two elder brothers had gone to retrieve medicine but they haven't returned. ...Ever since that time... whenever I am out in the cold at night... I remember my parents and my brothers and I..."

They were both silent, neither knowing what else to say. It was then that Penelo began to feel tired from the days events and from watching the flames of the fire lick the night sky. Her eyelids began to droop and soon she was fast asleep with her head upon Balthier's shoulder.

He smiled and gently picked her up and set her down on her designated sleeping area. He gently laid a kiss upon her forehead and went to join the others in fixing dinner.

End.


End file.
